弘明集 1.10

1.10

Someone asked: 'Utmost truth is without floral ornament; utmost words are without adornment. When words are concise yet consummate, they are fine; when affairs are few yet penetrating, they are clear. Therefore, pearls and jade are scarce and valued, while tiles and gravel are plentiful and despised. The sages established the basis of the Seven Classics in no more than thirty thousand words, yet all matters were complete within them. Now the Buddhist scriptures are counted by the tens of thousands of scrolls, and their words are numbered in the hundreds of millions; this is not something within the capacity of one person. I consider them tedious and unessential.' Mouzi said: 'The reason rivers and oceans differ from puddles by the road is because of their depth and vastness. The reason the Five Sacred Peaks are distinguished from mounds and hillocks is because of their height and size. If height did not exceed that of a mound, a lame sheep could surmount its peak; if depth did not exceed that of a trickle, a child could bathe in its pool. A fine steed does not abide in an enclosed park; a fish that can swallow a boat does not swim in a stream of a few fathoms. If one opens a three-inch clam seeking a bright moon pearl, or searches the nest of brambles and thorns seeking a fledgling phoenix, it will surely be hard to obtain. Why? Because the small cannot contain the large. The Buddhist scriptures recount the events of hundreds of millions of kalpas of the past, and tell of the essentials of ten thousand generations to come. Before the Great Simplicity arose, before the Great Beginning was born, when Qian and Kun first emerged—their subtleties cannot be grasped, and their minuteness cannot be entered into. The Buddha completely encompassed the outside of their vastness, and dissected the inside of their profundity, recording everything without exception. Therefore, his scriptures are counted by the tens of thousands of scrolls, and his words are numbered in the hundreds of millions. The more numerous they are, the more complete they become; the more manifold they are, the richer they are. How could they be unessential? Although they are not what one person can exhaust, it is like going to a river to drink water: when one is sated, one is naturally satisfied; how would one need to know the rest?'